This Gift
by AlinaLotus
Summary: When secrets are exposed about Hermione, will Draco be able to save her before it's too late?
1. Chapter 1

**This is something I'd written LONG ago, and decided it should have its place here. Warnings are abuse, self-harm, and AU. Ron bashing, as well. Set in 6th year, after the Final Battle, which took place after the MOM fiasco in Order of the Phoenix. Yep, AU is the way to go, lol. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine now, not mine ever. I own only the plot. I repeat that this fic will have a slightly darker edge to it in certain spots, and you have been warned.**

Hermione wasn't a hot girl. Not in the conventional way, at least. Now Pavarti Patil, there was a hot girl. Glossy black hair, mysterious and sultry eyes, olive skin that loved to be shown off by a tight belly shirt or mini skirt.

Then there was Lavender Brown, the walking pair of tits. Draco bet that Lavender had the biggest, bounciest tits of any girl in their year. And while she was brutally annoying and needy, Pansy had the most voluptuous bum Draco had ever had the pleasure of spanking.

Even Susan Bones, the idiot girl with braids from Hufflepuff, had a decent pair of legs, and though Draco would rather have curtsied to Potter before admitting it, he had, more than once, pictured those long legs wrapped around him while he fucked the pussy they happened to be attached to.

So why was the plainest looking girl in the entire year occupying his thoughts? It wasn't her breasts, like with Lavender. While Lavender could have easily filled out a D cup, Draco was guessing Hermione was probably more a light B cup. It wasn't her hair, as it was with Pavarti. Hermione's slightly dull brown color and flyaway curls did little to his imagination, though he seemed to recall that it did look rather decent at the Yule Ball three years ago. She didn't even have the legs of Susan. Hermione was, he guessed, at least a foot shorter than him, and even if she had been a bit taller, she always kept her legs modestly covered with calf-length skirts or loose fitting jeans.

So why, _why_, was he sitting here in Ancient Runes, his eyes glued to her profile, unblinking, while she idly took pages upon pages of notes, her brow creased in concentration, her posture erect and rapt with attention?

Perhaps the stress of the Final Battle had finally caught up with him. Dumbledore had warned him of it. After all, one did not simply murder one's parents without _some_mental repercussions, likewise turning double agent working tirelessly for the Order and for Voldemort.

Yes, that was it. Mental anguish, is what it boiled down to. Somehow, though, Draco did not feel settled with this cock-and-bull excuse. There was something about her, something about Granger that he couldn't put his finger on.

She was driving him mad, and he was rapidly becoming obsessed with her. Before long he knew that she liked black coffee with her breakfast, that she had the same chicken soup for lunch everyday, that she stole away for a personal walk whenever Potter and the Weasel had Quidditch practice.

What he didn't know is why she sobbed into her sleeve between Charms and Arithmancy, why there were white scars scattered among what looked to be long scratches on her arms that he noticed in Herbology one day, and, perhaps most unnerving of all, why she never looked at him.

It was quite obvious when somebody was staring at you as avidly as Draco had been staring at Hermione, and she hadn't said a thing to him, or even acknoweldged that he existed. Never before had a girl so blatantly ignored him. It was quite well-known that Draco had been around the block a few times, and usually had a different girl in his bed when he had the night free. To be a notch on his bedpost was an honor the majority of the female population at Hogwarts dreamed about, but making those dreams come true had been put on hold when Draco became hypnotized by Hermione.

He had never gone without sex for so long, but that wasn't the shocking thing. What surprised him, and many of his dormmates, was that Draco didn't _need_ sex. As long as Hermione was in his every thought, his sexual cravings seemed to have vanished. Of course there was the occasional wank every now and then, he was still human, after all.

But he needed more. More than the routine jack-off, more than watching her from across the Great Hall or during lessons. He had come the realization that he was obsessed with a girl who was alone. She cut her arms to fill a void, she walked along the same abandoned path every Thursday, she kept to her books and essays, she didn't bother to put on make-up or wear perfume.

He had come the realization that he and Hermione were more alike than any one could have guessed. Orphans, as both their parents were dead. Top of their House, but that only isolated them further from their schoolmates. He had come to the realization that he, from afar, had fallen in love with her. She was intelligent, clever, capable. She wasn't thin by any means, her curves were soft, her face full, the prominence of her collar and hip bones delicate. She had become the most beautiful girl to him.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Draco should have known that sooner or later, willingly or not, Hermione would have cornered him. What he did not expect was for her to be so brash, to use such language and be so bold.

"Pardon?" Draco said, drinking in her appearance. It was a weekend, and so she had donned muggle clothes, like most of the school had. She was wearing a blue hoodie and levis. Modest and comfortable, just like every other piece of clothing she owned. Somehow, she made it work, and Draco couldn't have been more attracted to her if she had been wearing a string bikini and heels.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I said 'what the fuck is your probelm'. Meaning, what the hell is with wrong with you?" Before Draco had a chance to reply, Hermione had grabbed him firmly around the forearm, and was dragging him off into an empty classroom outside the Great Hall. "You've been watching me like a hawk for two and half months now, Draco. Why? Am I the new subject for one of your twisted experiments?"

Draco chuckled. So she had noticed his surveillance, and now she was fed up with it. "There's no experiment, I promise you."

"Then why the sudden interest in me? We were allies in the Battle Draco, and that was where our friendship, if you can even call it that, ended. The war was over, we won, and you went back to your swanky, martini bachelor lifestyle."

So she was bitter. Yes, it was true that they had fought side by side at the Battle, that he had, countless times, shoved her from harm's way, just as she had done to him. They had even had a bit of civilized conversation back at the headquarters of the Order a few times, laughed before meetings, and when he couldn't bear to be at his empty manor, she would stay up with him in the basement kitchen of Grimmauld Place, talking with him past the empty coffee pot and cookie tin.

Is that what he had shared with her? A friendship? Is this why he couldn't think of another woman, why Hermione meant so much to him? He had been her friend, and she his. That was the deepest bond he had ever had with a girl, the only relationship outside of casual fucking that he had shared with somebody who wasn't a guy.

And she was disappointed! Hermione Granger, sad that their friendship hadn't continued on at Hogwarts, perhaps hadn't developed into something more!

"Is that why you cut? Because you miss me?" Draco blurted.

Hermione's eyes became piercing, and she glowered slightly at him. "You even know about that? God, did you have your lapdogs doing detective work for you or something? For fuck's sake, Draco, tell me what is going on here. I deserve to be treated like a big girl."

But Draco wasn't ready to tell her the truth. He needed more time. How could he explain something to her that he had only just figured out himself? He had to buy some more time, but he wanted that time to be with Hermione. "Look, why don't we go out to Hogsmeade today? I'd love to buy you some coffee or lunch or something."

Hermione sighed, her brown eyes staring up into him. "I can't." She whispered, turning around and hurrying away from him, out the front doors of the castle and down a dirt path. She prayed that Ron and Harry were still at Quidditch practice. If Ron had seen her talking to another guy...she didn't want to think about what would happen, especially since that guy happened to be Draco.

True, Draco did work for the Order, but that didn't stop Ron from carrying on hatred from all the years Draco had tormented him. And he loved to take that anger out on Hermione.

She had noticed Draco's attention towards her the day in Ancient Runes when he was studying her profile. It was like he was searching for some deep, Cosmic secret in her face. Since then, he had not stopped staring at her, following her when she was alone. She did have to hand it to him, though; nobody else had, thankfully, caught on to him.

And by nobody else she meant Ron. Ron was the most jealous, insecure man she had ever known, and if a boy merely glanced at Hermione, even if it was in passing, the consequences were dire. The fact that Hermione wasn't officially his girlfriend didn't bother him in the slightest. Ron believed he didn't have to make his territory known. If Hermione wasn't a slut, she wouldn't have male attention on her. If guys started asking her out or talking to her more often, she was clearly a whore, and as his property, it was his responsibility to punish her for it.

He hadn't touched her in days, though, being quite busy with Quidditch and Prefect duties. The bruises were still there, however, still tender. Her biceps were still purple, outlined in perfect replicas of Ron's fingers, how hard he had grabbed her apparent. Her back too was the same grisly color, evidence that being thrust into a brick wall did not leave one free of marks.

What she was really hoping was that Draco would have noticed this. Noticed that Ron was beating her, that it had been going on for almost a whole year now. That was the reason she cut. She was still Hermione Granger, top student of her year, Gryffindor Prefect, and still had _some_dignity left. Ron was going to hurt her, that was a given, but if she hurt herself, there was a choice in the matter. Pain was pain, yes, but chosen pain allowed her pride, even if it was only a smidgen.

Before she knew what was happening, Hermione was shoved forecfully to the ground. "So, the little slut has taken to the Malfoy pig?" Ron's voice, full of anger, sounded behind her. Hermione quickly rolled over onto her back and attempted to stand up, but Ron shoved his foot into her stomach, pushing her back down. "How long have you been sleeping with him, Hermione?" He said, as calmly as if he had been asking her about the weather.

"I'm not Ron, I swear!" Hermione cried, scooting backwards, out of reach of his legs. She stood up, only to have him grab her by her hair, yanking it downwards. She yelped in pain, but Ron acted as though he could not hear her. "I'm going to ask you again, you _fucking whore_, how long have you been fucking Malfoy!"

Though she had stooped to many levels of degradation at Ron's behalf, Hermione was not a liar. "Never, I'm not!" She cried again. Still holding her hair, Ron backhanded Hermione's right cheek with his free hand as hard as he could, before shoving her once more to the ground. "You're lucky I believe you...He wouldn't want you, you stupid cunt. No one would, no one else but me." Ron cracked his knuckles threateningly before walking away from her, leaving her alone in the dirt.

_Help me, Draco_, Hermione thought, as she steadied herself on her walk back up to the castle. Her right hip was aching, as it had absorbed most of her second impact to the ground. She walked with a slight limp, afraid that he might have fractured it. Well, she thought grimly, it wouldn't be the first time.

But it had been the first time he had hit her across the face. He was so careful to never leave a trace of his abuse, always hurting her in places on her body that could be easily covered by clothing. She knew in a few hours her face would be swollen, and, just like her arms, back, and now her hip and legs, would bear a large and painful bruise.

She was sure Ron would have an excuse for her...he never did let her cover her marks with magic, as he felt she needed a constant reminder that in any other man's hands, she would be dead. She was lucky, he always said, that he treated her as well as he did. No other man would want her, would even consider her.

"Hermione!" A deep voice Hermione recognized to be Draco's was calling to her across the courtyard. Knowing Ron would be locked in the Prefects' bathroom taking a shower by now, or at least she prayed he would be, Hermione turned towards Draco's voice. He ran up next to her, slowing to a stop. "Whoa, are you alright? You look like you've just been thrown in the dirt."

Hermione managed to fake a small smile. "Bet you didn't happen to notice that I'm dead clumsy, during all that observing." She said, biting her lip to keep from moaning in pain as she continued towards the castle. Her hip was throbbing now. She would definitely need to ice it, before it got so swollen that it was noticeable.

"Well, since you can't seem to find the time to go into Hogsmeade with me, I was thinking we could do something else, you know, perhaps share dinner together this evening? I know it's not the best backdrop for a date or anything, but I'm sure we could have a good time, maybe we can go to the Room of Requirement, see if it can help us out with the setting."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears. Here was Draco Malfoy, trying repeatedly to ask her out, to spend time with her. He wasn't like he used to be...the War had really changed him, he was good, and caring. He would never hurt her...she knew that. She could sense it in his entire demeanor towards her. He was gentle, and he would never hit her or make her hurt herself. And it was tearing her heart into a thousand tiny pieces that she couldn't even bring herself to look at him.

"I'm sorry Draco, but I can't. I've got too much schoolwork, you know how it is."

"Well, maybe we can do that instead, we could meet in the library, make it a study date."

Hermione smiled, in spite of the pain and misery she was feeling. Maybe a beating from Ron would be worth spending time with Draco. "Tell you what. Since we've got to patrol tomorrow night, if you can make it so Ron gets assigned with somebody else, we can do our duties together. That's the best I can offer you." Ron's punishment wouldn't be too bad if he knew that Hermione wasn't at fault...it was Filch, after all, that assigned Prefect partners, and if Hermione spent the following day complaining about how absolutely horrid Draco was, he might let her off with only punch in the stomach or a small burn on her thigh from his muggle lighter.

Draco grinned. "Hey I'm up for anything." He gripped her upper arm, causing her to wince and cry out in pain. "Sorry!" He cried. He thought be had been soft, a warm touch.

"No, no, it's not you, you didn't hurt me...you'd never hurt me. I just...well, you know how it is sometimes. Anyway, see you later, Draco." Hermione said, and she turned from him and limped towards the castle.

**---**

Draco wasn't stupid. He knew something was up with Hermione, something she wasn't letting on to anybody. Shouldn't he have spotted it, though? He had been watching and watching her for weeks. She did the same things everyday, she always had a routine. He knew where she was and what she was doing at all times.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Each Herbology and Potions lessons, when her uniform sleeves were pulled up, he noticed new cuts and scratches, but was always unable to decide when she was doing it. He had decided that the only time she wasn't under his surveillance was at night, and so that must be when she was hurting herself.

But this was giving him a different feeling. She may have been clumsy, as she said, but there something in her voice he just wasn't buying. Well, he thought to himself, he'd just have to see what came of their little outing tomorrow evening during patrol. They used to talk about their secrets, perhaps he could get her to open up again, as he had before.

But he didn't have to wait that long. The next morning at breakfast, as Draco took his favorite seat at the end of the Slytherin table, he saw something that nearly knocked the wind out of him. The right side of Hermione's face was a deep purple, mixed with navy blue splotches. She looked as though she had been punched, knocked to the ground and beat up.

He noticed that Potter was trying to see what had caused it, and Hermione was brushing him off, smiling that fake smile she had and assuring him she was fine, she had been talking to Lavender last night and had accidentally walked into the wall in their dormitory. It was then the Draco noticed Weasel's face. He was smiling. Smiling! One of his best friends looked like she had been mugged and he was sitting there, smiling like the fucking twit he was, like he had just won king of the fucking world.

So that was it...it was a triumphant smile. Clearly he was pleased with something. Draco's eyes flickered from Ron to Hermione, and if that fucking pussy was proud for the reason Draco was beginning to suspect, he was going to rip the little bastard limb from limb.

He stood from the table and marched across the hall, walking up behind Ron, unseen. He grabbed the boy around the collar of his shirt and pulled him from the bench, turning him around.

"What the bloody-"

"I suggest you shut the fuck up and listen. If I find out that you did this, I swear to Merlin I will kill you with my bare hands." With that Draco let go of Ron, and turned to Hermione, his eyes soft. "I'll see you in class, okay?"

Hermione's eyes were still wide with shock, but she nodded. So Draco had finally put two and two together. As Ron took his seat, cursing, Harry stood up. "Hermione, can I talk to you please?"

Hermione looked to Ron, who was staring daggers at her. She nodded, and followed Harry to the Entrance Hall. "What was that all about? Hermione, please tell me that Ron isn't the one who did this to you."

Hermione sighed. "Harry, it's complicated. You wouldn't understand."

Harry snorted. "I understand that you're hurt! Your face is beat to hell, and you can barely walk! You're one of my best friends, Hermione, and if this has been-"

"I think that's enough, Harry." Ron had come out behind them, and he grabbed Hermione's hand. "Nothing is going on, Hermione's fine. In fact, I think I'll walk her to class right now."

Harry stood by, watching his two best friends walk away.

**---**

"I shouldn't have believed you...you're such a fucking little skank, why did I even think I could believe you? You can never trust a little bitch like you, a worthless piece of shit, that's what you are..." Ron whispered these things into Hermione's ear as they made their way down the corridor to her Arithmancy class.

The corridor was deserted, and Hermione was afraid. For the first time, she was truly afraid for her life. She knew, before, that Ron's intent was never to kill her, or even seriously injure her. Bruises and burns, small fractures and tumbles down the stairs were his style. But now, with nobody in sight and the majority of the classrooms on this floor empty, she felt sure she wouldn't be living to go to class.

But, on the bright side, the abuse would stop. She wouldn't have to feel anymore, feel the pain, the dishonor, the humiliation. But what about Draco? Draco...her sweet, guardian angel. He would save her...yes, he would protect her. He had said it himself, he would kill Ron if he hurt her. Kicking open a door to their right with his foot, Ron shoved Hermione inside. He waved his wand behind him, and the door slammed shut, locking with a click. "Now, you pay for the damage you have done. We were so close to being found out...that must never happen again."

Hermione shook her head vigorously. "No, never...I didn't, Ron, I swear, I would never!" Hermione backed against the wall, cowering as Ron advanced on her. The first blow wasn't so bad, only a hard slap across her already bruised cheek, and Hermione took a deep breath at the wave of pain that hit her as his hand struck the tender tissues. Ron grabbed her arm, yanking her towards him.

"Shit!" Hermione shrieked, as she felt her shoulder being ripped from its socket.

"Shut the fuck up!" Ron screamed, and he pushed her to the floor, climbing on top of her. With both hands he grabbed her head, slamming it against the stone floor.

"Ron! Stop, you're going to kill me!" Hermione cried at the top of her lungs, trying with all of her strength to push him off of her.

"I told you," Ron seethed, now standing up, pulling Hermione with him. Hermione was vaguely aware that there was blood running from the back of her head down her neck. "To shut up!" He shoved her into the wall, where she crumpled over, still sobbing loudly. Ron wrapped his right hand around her aching neck. "If you won't shut up," he said, "I'll have to do it for you." He began to squeeze, and slowly Hermione's sobs were quieted, as the consciousness left her body.


	2. Chapter 2

Class was about to start, and Hermione was nowhere to be seen. Draco tore out of the classroom, cursing himself for leaving Hermione alone for even a second when fucking Weasel was still around. He remembered watching her leave the Hall with Potter, then Snape had descended the Staff table to ream him for public fighting. That was the last he had seen her...and now he was panicking.

He ripped door after door open, along the corridor, until he reached the other end of the hallway. A stifled sob was coming from somewhere...choosing the door to his left, he almost threw up with rage and fear at the sight his eyes met. Ron was holding a bloody Hermione up against the wall with one arm, his hand firmly grasping her throat, strangling her.

He ran straight at Ron, punching him squarely in the face, satisfied when he heard the sickening crunch that meant his nose had broken. Blood spurted from Ron's nostrils, and he let go of Hermione to cup at his face.

Draco caught Hermione's limp form, his level of panick increasing as he realized she was unconcious. She was still breathing, thank the gods, but there was blood pouring from her head, and there was a deep gash on top of her bruised cheek.

Raking his eyes over her body, he also saw that there were red marks from Ron's hand along her neck. He Conjured a pillow and gently lifted her head onto it.

There was a disturbance at the doorway as Harry arrived, Ginny in quick tow. They both gasped, and Draco stood up. "She needs to go to the Hospital Wing. I'll deal with this fucker." Draco said to Harry, who nodded, and with Ginny's help magicked a stretcher under Hermione.

"I'll be back to help." Harry said to Draco, and he and Ginny led Hermione's stretcher with the tips of their wands.

Draco turned to Ron, who was still nursing his nose. "You really think you're some hot shit, don't you? Do you think it's manly, beating a woman? Beating _my_ woman?"

Ron removed his hands and spat at Draco's feet, spraying blood and saliva everywhere. "She isn't your woman, you fucking git, she's mine. She's always been mine, and she'll always be mine. I'm not going to lose her to some bastard like you."

"Lucky for you Hermione wouldn't want me to beat you senseless. Instead, we'll do things the way she would want us to. Civilized." With a lazy wave of his hand bindings appeared, tying Ron's wrists and ankles together. He fell to the floor with a thud.

"How dare you, you fucker! Wait until Dumbledore gets wind of this, I'm a Prefect, you can't treat me-"

"Silencio!" A voice came from the door. Ron's shouts turned silent, and he opened and shut his mouth, looking like a guppy. Harry stepped over the threshold, nodding at Draco. "You're right, you know. She wouldn't have wanted you to beat him to a pulp."

Draco nodded. "Is she okay?"

Harry nodded. "She's safe now...thanks to you. Madame Pomfrey says we can see her in a few hours, after she patches her up. Listen...thanks, Draco. If you hadn't realized what was going on..."

"He would have killed her." Draco finished Harry's sentence. "But this is bigger than just beating the shit out of him. He's going to have to face his family, the rest of the school, probably the Ministry. The entire Wizarding world will know what a fuck face he really is...hear that, Weasel? And then, after everything has happened and you have been punished, because you can bet to high hell that I won't let you go unpunished, then I'm going to beat the shit out of you. You almost killed the woman I love, and I will never forget that, or forgive you for it. You've tempted a viper, and I swear to you, on my mother's grave, that one day, I will kill you."

**---**

It was three hours later, and Harry and Draco had delivered Ron to Dumbledore, explaining what they had both seen, Draco telling the Headmaster how he had begun to suspect abuse, then followed the sound of Hermione's sobbing when she had failed to show up for class.

Harry had been ashamed that he hadn't realized sooner, but both Draco and Dumbledore had assured him it wasn't his fault. Draco himself had told him how he had watched Hermione endlessly for weeks, and hadn't caught on until the very end.

"Sir," Draco began, after a silence had set in between the three of them. "Would it be alright if-"

Dumbledore held up a silencing hand, a grin on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. "Go to her, Draco. Harry and I will remain here. I'll inform his family, and Professor McGonagall will be here shortly. Miss Granger is a lucky girl, she is indebted to you."

Draco gave a swift nod, and hurried from Dumbledore's office.

**---**

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, I thought I'd be seeing you soon. She's in the last bed on the right. She's sleeping, but if she wakes, there's a tray of food for her, try and get her to eat something, she was in pretty nasty shape when Miss Weasley brought her to me, she'll need all the strength she can get. Move along, now, I've got other medications to give. " Madame Promfrey ushered him down the aisle of the infirmary, pulling a rolling cart of small plastic cups and glass bottles, some filled with colored liquids, others full to the brim with pills in various shapes and lengths.

He easily spotted Hermione, her long, curly hair sprawled out on the pillow behind her head. She was indeed sleeping, her breaths deep and even. He noticed the bruise on her cheek was almost completely faded, and the red marks from her throat had gone away completely. He suspected the rest of her was as nicely healed, and as he drew up a chair with his wand, Hermione's eyes fluttered open.

"Draco," she said, smiling. "I thought I smelled you."

Draco returned her smile, scooting his chair closer to her bed and searching among the sheets and blankets for her hand. His fingertips brushed her own, and he warmly enveloped her hand in his.

She flinched at this tender action, not being used to having a guy touch her in such a way, but Draco shook his head. "I'm not like him, you're safe now. No one is ever going to hurt you again, I'm going to protect you." It was a promise that Draco would keep for eternity.

He loved Hermione, loved her to the core of his very being, and he would never again allow physical harm to come to her. She was the one who had given him a second chance, who had welcomed him into the Order with open arms. She cared about him, cared for him like no other ever had.

Hermione nodded slowly. "I know. Isn't that odd? I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you'll always be there for me."

Draco smiled again. "It's not odd, it's the truth. I'll always be here. Now, let's dig in, shall we? Madame Pomfrey will have my ass if you don't eat your lunch." He pointed to a tray on Hermione's bedside table.

**---**

When Dumbledore himself sent a letter to Molly and Arthur Weasley, explaining what had happened and that Draco Malfoy had been the one to apprehend their son, that Ron's own sister and best friend had caught him in the act of trying to strangle Hermione to death, the two Weasley parents had shown up to the school, livid.

Ron, who had, for some unknowable reason, suspected he had gotten off quite easy and without punishment, was dragged from the hall by the scruff of his neck by his mother, while Arthur shook hands with Harry and Draco, who upon seeing the Weasley's enter the Great Hall, had come over from the Slytherin table to see Ron have his ass handed to him by his mother, who was easily three feet shorter than him.

"Hermione will never forgive us for this," Arthur said, shaking his head.

"It's all okay, dad. I've talked to her about it...she knows that you and mum had no idea, nor I, for that matter." Ginny had also joined their party, and gave her dad a quick hug. "Speaking of which, I'm off to visit her, still in the hospital wing, you know. Coming, Harry, Draco?" Ginny asked.

"In a minute, Ginny, your mother and I would like to speak with Draco, if that's quite okay?" Arthur said, looking at Draco.

Draco nodded. "Of course, sir. Tell Hermione I'll be there soon."

"And us, as well." Arthur said over his shoulder, as he and Draco exited the Hall.

When they were alone in the Entrance Hall, and Molly had joined them, after locking Ron in McGonagall's office, as his Head of House decided the proper course of action for his punishment at Hogwarts, Arthur had pulled out a rolled and wax-sealed scroll. "It's an Order of Merlin. Third class, but you can bet your Hippogriff's I'll be trying to get First. The Minister was glad of your bravery, but you know how Cornelius is, Hermione being...well, not a full-blooded witch."

"Sir, I didn't...I mean, it wasn't...it wasn't like I saved the day or anything. In fact, I can't believe that I was stupid enough to take so long to realize it...Hermione says it's been going on for almost a year now."

"Draco, we love Hermione like she's our own daughter, and with her mother and father being killed by the Death Eaters...well, we've come to feel like her parents. Her safety is first and foremost, and now thanks to you, she is safe." Molly said, taking one of Draco's hands in both of hers.

"You're a fine person, son. You really have changed, you're a man now, and not like your father." Arthur said, clapping him on the shoulder.

The fact that Arthur Weasley, probably his father's most bitter enemy during his life, was here, telling him what a good man he was, made Draco feel more worthy than the Order of Merlin the Minister had issued him.

"There's no real way we can repay you, Draco, except to invite you and Hermione to our house for the Christmas holidays. We're shipping Ron off to Arthur's cousin in America, says he can put him through something called military school, should whip him right into shape." Molly said, as the three of them set of towards the Hospital wing.

"I'd love to, Mrs. Weasley. I'm sure Hermione will be thrilled as well."

They had reached the infirmary, and Mr. Weasley held the door open and allowed his two companions to pass before him. Hermione was sitting up in bed, a large smile forming on her face as she saw Draco approach. _God, she's beautiful_, he thought to himself, as Arthur and Molly hugged Hermione.

Her curly hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, and her face was, as usual, free of any makeup, but she hardly needed any. Her brown eyes were framed by the blackest of lashes, her cheeks always slightly flushed a gorgeous shade of peach, and her lips full and deliciously pink.

What they tasted like, however, was a mere guess to Draco. Hermione was so vulnerable, and though Ron was now, for the moment anyway, out of her life, she was still scared. It was a sad truth, that Ron had scarred her in such a way that the softest of touches were associated with nothing but a physical pain that ran deep, and an emotional pain that ran even deeper, and he vowed, one more time, to make the Weasel pay.


	3. Chapter 3

Draco wrapped his arms around Hermione, his chin on top of her were in their pajamas, curled up against the overstuffed couch in front of a roaring fire. Himself, Hermione, and Harry were staying with the Weasley's over the holidays, and Draco had never seen Hermione happier than she was right now. Ron was an Ocean and a country away, she was safe now. Her injuries had healed, her strength was returning, and she was constantly, or so it seemed, smiling.

The Weasley's and Harry were all out now, looking at the muggle Christmas lights in the village. Mr. Weasley winked knowingly at Draco when he had asked him and Hermione to join them. Hermione was for it, but Draco said he preferred to spend the night in, alone with his girl, his Hermione.

Draco loved her. Wasn't that funny? Draco Malfoy, pureblood, practically wizarding royalty, was in love with a mudblood! A mudblood he had, in the past, tried multiple times to kill, to murder in cold blood. But then...well, the rest was history, he supposed.

It had all passed in a blur, his double-agent role being discovered by Voldemort, stumbling onto the porch of Grimmauld Place half-alive, Hermione helping him into the house, healing the wounds the Death Eaters had inflicted on him...then term had started, him becoming obsessed with her, saving her from Ron, and now, here he was, that same beautiful mudblood's hair strewn across his chest and shoulder, a small black velvet box clutched tightly in his slightly shaking left hand.

He was nervous, more so than he had ever been in his entire life, and for a moment he considered jumping ship on the whole idea. Why would she say yes? Sure he had a considerable amount of galleons in his vault at Gringott's, but was that enough? The manor had been burnt to the ground by the Order, the acres of land he had inherited when he had killed his parents were nothing more than dead trees and brown grass...but then she looked up at him, those amber, cat-like eyes sparkling, and his resolve stiffened.

"Hermione, there's something...something I need to ask you."

"Shoot, love." She said, yawning slightly.

"Get up, onto the couch." He said, helping her to her feet. She sat, now looking confused.

"What's this about, Draco? Is everything okay?"

Draco smiled. "More than okay. It's never been better, Hermione...you've made me...complete. I love you."

Now Hermione smiled. "I love you too...is that all? 'Cause you've said that you love me before..."

"That's not all...I'm not terribly good at this sort of thing, I'm not...I'm not romantically inclined, you know that."

Hermione giggled. Boy, did she.

"Hey! I'm trying to ask you something here, this isn't a joke, you know." Draco said defensively.

"Sorry, sorry, go ahead." Hermione stifled her laughter, trying to appear serious.

"You have changed my entire life, Hermione. You don't know it, but that night...at Headquarters...you were the first face I saw, the first one to believe me, to accept me, to stand up for me...you worked your way into my heart, that day, and ever since..."

He paused, and Hermione, now very serious, took his hand in both of hers. "I always knew you were good, Draco."

"Exactly! You knew, even when I doubted myself, that I wasn't just some cheeky bastard who wanted nothing more than to follow in the footsteps of my cheeky bastard father...and that, Hermione, that belief in me, made me the person I am today, and I love you with all of my heart, you mean more to me than..." Again he paused, but this time because of the tears that started to form in his blue eyes.

"Baby, what is this really about?" Hermione asked, preparing to join him on the floor, but he gently pushed her back onto the couch.

"I don't have much to offer you, and it'll be another year before we could even start planning, I mean with NEWTS and graduation... We're young, I know this, and I know that I'm probably the last person you would consider..." A deep breath, the appearance of a black box, then, "Hermione Granger, will you marry me?"

The ring was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, a large princess cut diamond in a platinum setting, small dark blue sapphires and diamonds making up the band.

Hermione looked from Draco, to the ring, then back to Draco's face. "I love you, Draco Malfoy. You saved my life, you protected me when nobody else would. You saw past my mudblood exterior to the girl I really am...it's every little girl's dream to find a strong, handsome man to love her and hold her...you are every little girl's dream...you are _my_ dream. Yes, Draco. Yes."

Draco, bearing the widest, largest smile ever, placed the ring on her finger, then scooped her up in his arms. Tears were pouring down his face, and at the sight of the strongest man she knew crying, Hermione's face was soon wet with tears as well. "I promise you," Draco said, setting her down on the couch, "I will make you the happiest woman in the world."

Hermione smiled through her tears. " You already have."

**---**

It had started to snow. It was two hours before the Weasley's and Harry returned, and in those two hours Draco and his bride-to-be sat still, in front of the fire, whispering to each other about their future. He would rebuild a grand house for her, Draco promised, they could draw up the plans tomorrow, and the house would be done by graduation, they could have the wedding and move in whenever they wanted. Hermione loved the idea of them making the blue prints for their home, but she didn't want Draco to empty his vault just for her, just for their home.

"I won't have you living in squalor, Hermione. You deserve a castle, and I'm going to give it to you."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't need a castle, Draco...I don't care where we live, as long as I get to be with you."

"And I want us to be together in a beautiful home."

"We can have that without spending millions of galleons..."

Draco smirked. "Alright, alright, you win, we can build whatever house you want."

"Hermione! Hermione, where are you? Hermione!" A shrill voice came from the front door. Hermione and Draco glanced at each other, then stood up. Ginny came running into the living room, arms flailing and hair soaking wet from the storm outside. "_There_ you are! Look!" Ginny shoved her left hand in front of Hermione's face. On her forefinger was a diamond engagement ring.

"Harry and I are going to get married! He just asked me, tonight!" Ginny exclaimed, and behind her an equally-soaked Harry walked up, grinning like a fool.

"Congratulations!" Hermione said, hugging Ginny.

"We've got some news, too." Draco said, grabbing Hermione's hand.

"We're engaged!" Hermione squealed. Ginny made a high _squee _sound and the two girls hugged each other again, in a frenzy. Draco and Harry glanced at each other, shrugging.

"Did I hear right? More good news?" Molly now came into the living room.

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley, Draco and I are going to be married!" For the next hour, Hermione and Ginny were passed around the room, while Harry and Draco stood back, each admiring their beautiful fiances.

There was a knock on the front door and it swung open, a tall gangly boy with ginger hair and a large green bag slung across his shoulders standing there.

"R...Ron?" Hermione gasped.


	4. Chapter 4

The atmosphere spun on a dime, changing at once. Whereas before it had been happy, content, excited, now it was filled with dread and, at least from Draco's point of view, murderous rage. What right did Ron have, showing up here? What right did he have to even be in this sodding country, wasn't he supposedly off to some American military school?

"Ronald," Molly stepped forward, after a moment of shocked silence.

"I'm here for the holidays," Ron said, his eyes shifting around the room, finally coming to land on Hermione.

Instinctively, Draco stepped in front of her, and Harry took his place at Hermione's side.

"Well just get the fuck out!" Ginny said, but before she could approach her brother Harry had grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him.

"Ginerva!" Molly scolded, glancing back at her daughter.

"I don't want him in here! Don't you remember what he did, what he's capable of? He's going to kill her!" Ginny screamed, pointing at Hermione. Draco pushed himself closer to his fiancee, if that were possible.

"I'm not going to do that." Ron said. His voice was hoarse, raspy, as though he hadn't used it in a long time. "They sent us all home for Christmas. Didn't know if I still had a home, but as I already lost everything that ever mattered, I figured I had nothing else to lose."

Ron made a step forward, closer to Hermione and Draco. "Watch it." Draco warned, twisting his arms so they covered Hermione's front.

"I'm here to apologize. To all of you. But especially to Hermione. Let me make it right, Malfoy."

"Who says you've earned that privilege?" Harry said. "What you did to her...to _us, _Ron, to our friendship...how can you just waltz in here and think a few words will fix all that?"

Ron was quiet for a moment. "I know I don't deserve any forgiveness, and believe me, that's not what I'm asking for. I just want you--her--to know that I'm sorry, that I'm trying to get better. I'm sure that doesn't mean a whole hell of a lot, seeing as you've got Malfoy now, but if I could take it all back, I would, Hermione. I want you back."

"And you think that even if you hadn't beaten her within an inch of her life, that you hadn't degraded her and scarred her, that I'd still let you near her?" Draco demanded, his eyes icy and his face set.

"Of course-" Ron started, but Draco pushed Hermione into Ginny's arms, lunged forward, grabbed Ron by his collar, and dragged him out of the door.

"Just a bloody minute!" Ron protested, but Draco slammed the door behind him and pushed Ron into the snow.

"I told you once," Draco began, pulling his wand from his back pocket, "that I would kill you. I believe it was a promise I made, and I may have done many things, but I will not break my word on that." Draco lifted his wand above his head, revenge etched in his face, but the front door swung open and Hermione ran out onto the lawn, and stood between Draco and Ron.

"Stop!" She screamed, "Draco, please stop! Don't hurt him." She turned around and offered her hand to Ron, who took it at once and stood up.

"Hermione, you can't honestly..." Draco trailed off, shaking his head. Impossible! Hermione was trying to shield Ron from harm, after every sodding thing he'd done to her?

"I can't forgive you, Ron, not yet. The things you did to me...I still have nightmares about it. It's not so much the physical stuff, you know? I mean, my bruises have all healed, my bones repaired, scars faded...it's how you, literally,_ broke_ me. I'll never forget." Silent tears were running down Hermione's cheeks as she looked up into Ron's face.

"Hermione," Ron began, but Hermione held up a silencing hand, took a deep breath, and wiped her tears away.

"Draco saved me from what you are, or were. I know you're trying to change, or wouldn't have come here, not after everything that's happened. But...I'm just not there yet, Ron. I think you should go back to America."

And in that moment Draco saw the change from the Hermione who had been so mangled, the Hermione who had given in to abuse and loss of her own will and strength, to the Hermione she'd been when, his hand in hers, she'd comforted him on the steps of Grimmauld Place, to the Hermione who stood up for house-elfs or goblins or what the hell ever, the Hermione who was stronger than any army of Death Eaters or Order members could claim to be.

"You know I could never allow myself to be with you again, and quite honestly, I wouldn't want to. If the day comes when you're the old Ron again, I'll be by your side. But as your friend, like it should've been, and should've stayed. I love you Ron, I'll always love you, you're one of my best friends, but you're not _you_ right now, and you haven't been for some time."

Ron nodded. "I know. I will get you to trust me again. Things can go back to the way they were...when me and you and Harry used to run around, doing mad things."

Hermione laughed, walking to Draco and reaching for his hand. "I'm going to marry Draco, Ron." Hermione held up her left hand, her ring glittering in the night. "But I promise, there'll always be a place for you, in my heart, just like Harry has a place, and Dumbledore and Sirius and Ginny. It's not the same without you."

Ron took a deep, liberating breath. "Soon, Hermione. Someday soon." He said, and hoisted his pack onto his back again, turned on his heel, and disappeared into the snow.

---

..._two years later..._

Hermione was, to nobody's surprise, a mess the day of the wedding. She'd raged at Ginny, at her mother, at the florist, and most of all, at Draco.

"Just walk down the aisle naked then, for all I care!" Draco cried, when he knocked on the door of the bride's room to announce that Hermione's wedding dress had arrived, and Hermione had told him, ever so politely of course, just where, exactly, he could stick the dress.

Ginny had appeared, looking lovely as ever in her lavender maid of honor gown, took the dress from Draco, and handed him a small bottle of firewhiskey. "You're going to need it more than me." She said, and she shut the door in his face.

_"Women_!" He raged, stuffing the bottle into the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket. The last thing he needed was Hermione turning hysterical (even more, if that was at all bloody possible) and kicking him the balls or some such thing because her husband smelled like whiskey.

Draco made sure that Molly and Dumbledore were comfortable in the front pew, then took his place beside the altar, in front of the priest.

Hermione had insisted on a traditional muggle wedding, and Draco, recognizing defeat when Ginny came in the day after the proposal with arms full of muggle wedding magazines, agreed. Although, he reflected, even if _he'd_ been the one who threw a tantrum every time something didn't go exactly according to plan, it wouldn't have mattered. Hermione Granger (in her own words) was going to have a picture-perfect, traditional wedding, and if Draco chose not to be there, well, he wasn't the only bloke who'd look half decent in a tux. She was sure she could wrangle up an old boyfriend or two to march down the aisle with her.

The music began, a soft, sweet tune that church's organist plucked out, and Harry and Ginny appeared, Harry looked ill-at-ease in a suit, Ginny looking stressed, but somewhat relieved, probably to be out of the line of fire of whatever Hermione was able to throw.

And then the bridal march started, and then Arthur and Hermione walked through the pine double doors, and Draco was not the only who audibly gasped. Hermione looked radiant, angelic, perfect. The dress was pure white, whiter than the snow falling softly outside the high, arched windows, and fit Hermione's body like a glove. Her veil was lined with pearls and diamonds, something the last three women in Hermione's family had worn on their own wedding days.

Draco would've liked to say that as he watched Hermione Jean Granger walk down the aisle, and as they vowed to have and to hold each other for their existence, and as she become Hermione Jean Malfoy, that he was a pillar of strength, that he did not cry one tear or weep like a little girl. Of course he stuck to that story, even though the pictures the little Creevey blighter had taken proved otherwise.

Over the cake, Draco could sense something amiss with Hermione. She looked happy enough, but there was something in her smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"What is it, love?" Draco asked, taking her left hand in his. The way her engagement ring and wedding band sparkled on her finger was something he was becoming very fond of.

"Nothing. Now stand back or you're going to get stampeded for this." Hermione indicated her bouquet of white roses, and Draco retreated to the far side of the hall with Harry, whose hands were in his pants. His eyes also held the same sort of emptiness that Hermione's did.

"What the fuck is the matter with the two of you?" Draco asked, tipping his head back against the stone wall.

Harry sighed. "It's just-" Suddenly, from across the across the hall, there was an ear-splitting shriek, and Draco was sure he'd gone deaf. Out of the crowd of girls came who had the bouquet, a tall, ever gangly, ginger-haired boy, with Hermione holding his hand.

"Harry!" Hermione cried, and drug Ron, who was grinning, towards where Draco and Harry stood.

Draco tensed immediately. "What the hell?" He muttered, but Harry wasn't listening. When Hermione and Ron approached, Harry and Ron embraced, and in Hermione's face Draco saw nothing but real, genuine happiness, and realized that Ron not being here on her wedding day was what had been missing. The three of them, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, had been through so much together and were, quite literally, soul mates. Hermione could not have felt complete and a day like today if only two parts of that trio were here.

"You came." Hermione whispered, and threw herself into Ron's arms.

Ron laughed, and looked over Hermione's head at Draco. what choice did Draco have? He know he'd never forgive Ron for what he'd done, but if having him here made Hermione happy, well, husbands had to sacrifice things for their wives. Draco gave a curt nod, and Ron, as discreetly as possible, freed himself of Hermione.

"Thank you, Ron. Thank you for this gift." Draco said gruffly, as Ron and Harry began catching up.

Draco held out his hand. "Shall we dance, Mrs. Malfoy?" He asked, and Hermione, wiping her eyes, smiled brilliantly. "I believe we shall, Mr. Malfoy."

**Well, there you have it! The end. Some may hate it, but this is how I'd always planned on ending this one. I just wanted everything to turn out okay, in the end. **


End file.
